


Are We Groot?

by JakeDov



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Cartoon), Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: All I really wanna do is sleep, Does it ever stop?, Make it STOP, Other, Puberty, What do I do with an unruly teenager?, Why is Gamora angry?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JakeDov/pseuds/JakeDov
Summary: A growing-up Groot has just entered an entirely new phase of development, called puberty. The crew doesnt know yet what to make of this and how to deal with a constantly peeving tree...





	Are We Groot?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys,
> 
> hope you like this short one-shot. This scene is inspired by the ending scene of the Guardians of the Galaxy 2 movie, and I hope you guys love baby and teenage Groot as much as I do.
> 
> If you like this short story, please leave a kudo and a comment, I´d love to hear your feedback, and if I should continue writing about Marvel, as I have so many more ideas about the Marvel universe I could make cool stories of.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and now enjoy Groot and the rest of the Guardians ;-)

An angry voice floats through the empty air. “Groot, put that down!”

Peter can hear a clang and a thump, as if from something metallic hitting the ceiling. He nearly falls off his chair in surprise, jerking awake from a very satisfying though equally sultry catnip. His arms and legs are a puzzling tangle of limbs and extremities before he can sort out which belongs where. He is possibly drooling.

Quickly scanning the room for Gamora, he relaxes when he doesn’t immediately see his fierce green-skinned comrade frowning at him. That would have been awkward. Much to his unsettlement, it was something she did very often, lately. But Peter is alone on the bridge, for now.

“I am Groot,” Peter hears the defiant although slightly wooden answer of their stubborn teenage protégé.

“I don´t give a rat’s ass about you being bored. Clean the windows, scrub some toilets if you have spare energy, I don’t care. S´ long as you got your feet under my table you’ll do as I say. Well, metaphorically speaking of course but still. I am sure Quill agrees with me on this. And right now, I am saying put it down. Groot, I won’t say it again. _Now!_ ”

“I. Am. _Groot_!”

“I don’t care what you want. I want you to put that thing down right now and go do your chores before you kill us all! Chemicals aren’t for screwing around with and certainly not for little children. I don´t even know why I have to argue with you about that. You’re not a baby any more! Quit fooling around and act your age! This is not a joke!”

“I am. Grooooot!”

“Yeah, right back at you. Of course I care about what happens. I care enough about you to tell you to stop, what more do you want? We all care about you. But that doesn’t change the fact that sometimes you are a complete jerk!”

“I am Groot?”

Peter hears the chagrin in Rocket’s voice as he answers. He can only guess at the concomitant expression, but finds he can very well imagine the exasperated impatience. “For fuck´s sake no, you are a child. Not an idiot. I am told there can be a difference. Act like it!”

“I am Groot. I am Groot! I am Grooooot!!!”

“If you keep going on putting everyone off there will be consequences. You´re familiar with the concept of being grounded? Put the bomb down and go clean your room! I told you thrice already. There are vines hanging around everywhere and I nearly tripped and broke my neck because of one of your bloody roots earlier. Don’t you test my patience, young man, I am warning you.”

 _Bomb?_ Peter thinks, slightly alarmed.

He pushes himself up and off his chair, stretching carefully. His neck pops loudly and he is glad nobody is there to hear him sigh. Sometimes, he starts feeling like a veeery old man indeed. Being a space pirate with a vagabond crew at his hands like his is tiring to say the least. Being the captain of these people simply sucks. He wonders why he has met just exactly these people at exactly the times he has stumbled across them. Them getting along and saving the galaxy not only once but twice already was supposed to be a miracle but more often than not these days Peter feels like he is being degraded to a second-class nursery-school teacher. What does that say about his life, he wonders?

There is another crash, louder this time, and closer. Peter can hear someone panting.

“I. AM. GROOT!”

“Careful, the bomb! It´ll explode if you don’t –”

Another bone-shattering bang that probably woke even a close-to-death-when-sleeping Drax, followed by even more yells, the gist of which is too obscene even for Peter to dwell upon. He might actually be able to learn a thing or two from Rocket’s cursing.

“I _am_ Groot!”

“Bomb?” Peter echoes, profound alarm mounting steadily. “What bomb? Why bomb?” Suddenly, he is not quite so calm any more.

 _What the hell is Rocket doing to my ship? And why on earth did anyone have the moronic idea to let a confused teenager Groot play with bombs?_ He had to have a serious word with his crew some time. Though knowing of all of their shortcomings as he knows his own, he knows as well of the inexorable outcome this harangue would result in, which unfortunately does nothing at all to ease Peters mind in the least right now.

Sitting on a ticking time bomb (possibly quite literally!) was never a particularly satisfying experience.

There is a brief rustle and a sigh, and suddenly Peter can see a green figure storming his way, billowing hair flowing around her like a halo of reddening madness.

“Peter, make it stop,” Gamora growls menacingly as she storms onto the bridge. Despite himself, Peter flinches.

“Make what stop? Puberty?”

“You know what I mean,” Gamora answers wild-eyed. “I swear I will lose my mind if this continues for much longer. Groot is insane!”

Peter huffs without any humour. He would very much like to laugh her off and love nothing more than to sit this one out with Groot, but truth be told, he fears Gamora might be right. The situation does threaten to spin out of control.

His patience is running low, akin to strained tendons stretched gossamer thin. As is the case for everyone on this ship. Nerves are raw, and it is his own fault. Well, kind of... His and that stupid bitch’s who sent them on this stupid mission in the first place. They shouldn’t have accepted the bait, they should have instead focused on figuring out an increasingly troublesome Groot, before the recalcitrant teen struck permanent roots throughout the ship’s marrow for good. Is this always how having your own children feels like? If so, he never ever wants to get stuck in the position of having to raise one. It seems truly sanguinity-wrecking to him to put up with that much crazy for eighteen years! Why would anyone ever be as crazy as all that? He could not understand it.

“Okay, okay. Calm down, I will talk to him.”

Gamora suddenly flashes him a broad white-toothed smile – but it is neither hearty nor warming. Rather, it looks like the smile of a spider just about to devour a particularly helpless bug. Peter hopes very much that neither he nor either of his comrades is gonna have to be the bug.

“Better make it quick, Peter, or Groot’ll find himself a stem short of a trunk soon.”

The green-skinned Zen-Whoberi lady is impulsive and constantly on edge in the best of times, so Peter expects she’ll very probably go rabid in barely a second if truly angered into incandescence. He fears for all their lives if it should ever come so far. They need a solution, and quick.

Only, he has no freaking clue whatsoever what to do about Groot. The little Colossus is slowly but surely becoming a problem. Peter has been wreaking his brain for days already in order to find something to channel all of his little friend’s restless energy. But he is no longer convinced that such a thing may even be possible. On the contrary, even, Peter is pretty sure there is just nothing to be done about Groot. He had much too little experience with kids to be up for any of this kind of trouble, much less a teenager who could sprout roots from every imaginable place on his body at his leisure. Which was very unfortunate, really. Groot sure as hell needed a demanding mission to get him off all their backs. Literally, in most cases.

More to himself than to his fuming companion, Peter mumbles, “How do you stop a seven foot tall tree from shooting?“

“Shoot him first.” Gamora stalks off and pats his shoulder as she passes Peter. “I have neigh infinite trust in you and your persuasive skills, Peter. I am sure you’ll find a way,” she purrs, “and if not, I know where you keep your emergency axe.“

Another rustle and a sigh, and Peter is alone again. He feels like a bug having hit the windshield of a truck. He wonders. Does every captain feel as impotent on his own ship? Somehow, he doesn’t think so. He should probably put on Star Trek for the guys some time soon, if just in order to show them how asserting one’s authority usually looked like. Not that it’d change anything...

“Groot, put _me_ down!” the voice of their common mammal friend flares suddenly, demanding viciously to be set down. Peter can only imagine what is going on, though he really wishes he wouldn’t. “I swear to the fucking universe, I am – _Groot!_ ”

“No, _I_ am Groot!”, Groot yells viciously, his voice even more wooden in quality now.

“Yeah, no doubt about that, you big wooden douchebag! Now set me down again and _stop juggling the bomb!_ ”

Before Peter can give voice to his own suspicions, his mind has already taken off. He does not have a clue what he will do when he reaches Groot but he cannot wait any longer. He has to do something.

He sprints towards the exit and heads over to where the entire commotion seems to come from, hoping to catch both querulants before they managed to blow the entire ship to pieces. But his mind engaged otherwise, he doesn’t pay attention to where he is stepping and even before he has reached the main aisle, Peter is falling.

He stumbles, hitting and grabbing a protruding rail in sudden shock, first with his head then with an arm. Cursing vociferously at his own clumsiness he looks back over his shoulder to identify the devious culprit. There is a little silver object jammed in a tiny little nook on the cold metal floor and before he can help himself, a rush of memory engulfs him.

He sees a little boy, galaxies away from home, lonely and in mourning. He smells the tar of Yondu’s ship and the sweat of the Ravengers he grew up with around him. He hears again their rough shouts and demanding claims as a small boy tried somehow to fit in. And all throughout the hardships of a troubled childhood, Peter sees a kid and its most faithful companion – the thing with the most emotional value he possesses still today, apart from his mothers’ music tapes. He had all but forgotten about the old gameboy Yondu got him after his first year as a graduated thief, back when he has suffered a particularly heavy bout of homesickness.

And suddenly, Peter has an idea. An unconventional idea, truly, but hopefully an equally good one too, a brilliant one even. Maybe, this will work as effectively on Groot as it did on him? Maybe it will help him focus, maybe it can help him sharpen, maybe it will even help him quiet. Maybe it will be the much vaunted-for reprieve the rest of them keep looking for so bad? Seeing how things went, lately, it definitely seems worth a shot.

Peter bends to pick up the second-hand console and smiles a minute smile. What could possibly go wrong now?


End file.
